This passage is reminiscent of the way that God referred to the Israelites – how He set them apart to be His people. There is further Old Testament language used here: the holy priesthood and spiritual sacrifices. Isaiah 28 is quoted, reminding us that Jesus is the stone that God’s holy temple is built on. The amazing thing is that we not only get to be God’s holy dwelling place, we are knitted together with others into a much bigger ‘spiritual house’.
We saw last week how the Holy Spirit testifies that we are children of God. Here we are being reminded that the truth is even bigger than that. We gain a sense of perspective through this reading; it isn’t just about you or me as an individual. Yes, we are important and precious to God, but we are part of a ‘chosen people’, a ‘holy nation’ that God has set apart for Himself. As we saw with the Old Testament passages we looked at earlier in this study, a lot of Scripture focuses on corporate holiness. That is why I wanted to include 1 Peter 2; to show that it wasn’t just an Old Testament concept. It is also a good reminder that we are not to focus on ourselves but live in the light of the fact that we are stones being built into the same building as our fellow believers.
In the Old Testament we saw how ‘God’s people had a priesthood, but today God’s people are a priesthood.’* In biblical times especially, it was a privilege to be a priest – today all that we do, both individually but also together, should therefore be for God’s glory. As verse 9 tells us, the responsibility of our shared calling is to reveal ‘the praises of him’ to the world around us.
Prayer: Lord You have called me, and my fellow believers, to be Your holy nation. Help us to live and work in unity, revealing Your glory to those we come into contact with. Amen.
*Warren Wiersbe, Be Hopeful:How to make the best times out of your worst of times (1 Peter) (David C Cook, 2009). NB This study was first written for Inspiring Women Every Day. It wasn’t until I was uploading this page to my blog that I made the connection that so much of my research for such Bible notes has included books by Warren Wiersbe. I am truly grateful for his life, and the lives of our other dear brothers and sisters who have died recently, including Rachel Held Evans and Jean Vanier. We influence one another just by sharing our lives, and/or putting our ideas and thoughts ‘out there’ for one another to read and think about. The three I mention here were from different Christian traditions, but each brought fresh revelations to me and countless others. We truly are a varied ‘spiritual house’ – but may we be built up into unity with one another.
Writer Paul Alkazraji is guest blogging here today as part of the blog tour celebrating the release of his new book The Migrant. He reveals his journey into writing as well as some of his writing methods…
When I became a believer, just after graduating from Bath University in the late 80s, I wanted to communicate something of the Christian faith to others through writing. Things really began to flourish after I took a correspondence course with the London School of Journalism in Freelance Journalism.
From the mid-90s onwards, I relished the freedom of pursuing the subjects and the people who interested me – drawing out what other believers had to say about their life, faith and work. I very much enjoyed formulating a range of questions, giving people space to talk and then eeking out the gems of their experience for others to appreciate.
One person I interviewed was the Oscar-winning animator Nick Park. In A Grand Day Out Wallace and Gromit build a rocket in their cellar, and then embark on a holiday to the moon in search of cheese.
The source of his inspiration, Nick told me, was his family’s inventiveness. ‘My parents built this caravan from nothing, just a pair of wheels,’ he said. ‘They built a box on it and decorated it inside with furniture and wallpaper and all seven of us went on holiday to Wales in this thing.’
Nick Park and a little friend. 1996, Bristol. Photo by P. Alkazraji.
To the question of whether or not his work is Christian, he replied: ‘The potential for making films is in the creation; I’m just playing a role in that. It’s part of God’s cultural mandate to be creative, and to do things which are pleasing to him. Being constantly challenged by the Gospel to live freer, and creating things in a loving way: I think these are very Christian things to do.’ I thought that was a memorable answer.
A story that was a turning point for me was when I was invited to Albania in 1998 just before the Kosovo Crisis. We flew to Athens and drove up through the interior of Greece in the summer heat. My colleague felt anxious enough about our safety that he mentioned he’d been on the lookout for a bulletproof vest for me. More than any mild anxiety, I felt an odd affirmation that I was entering the zone of true reporting if such a thing were necessary.
As we drew near to the Albanian border and asked for directions, several people looked at us as if we were crazy, making the gesture of firing off rifles above our heads and shouting, ‘Pam, pam, pam!’ The country had only recently emerged from a phase of violent chaos. But as things transpired, we were untouched and unthreatened throughout our week in Albania.
The story, about a missionary couple, made a great feature forThe Christian Herald, and two years later I returned for five weeks to write the couple’s biography, Christ and the Kalashnikov, for HarperCollins.
In one incident in the book, a knock came on the missionary couple’s hotel door late one night as Albania was beginning to open up and break apart. Feeling very apprehensive, they were led to a stone cottage in the city’s old quarter dimly lit with a single light bulb and a candle. There they met a handful of old men who were the only remaining members of a church started before the outbreak of the Second World War.
Their leader spoke: ‘He says that they have kept their faith secretly for over fifty years, and word reached him today that the Gospel had been preached on the streets of his town for the first time since the Communists took control. He has been praying for this day for years. He says that he is ready now to die with contentment… They were the youth group,’ the translator said. Writing can sometimes lead you to feeling you’ve been given a little piece of history to record.
One of the ways I worked on my first novel The Silencer, which I wrote after living in Albania for a decade, was to do close observation work in the places where the story is set. The Silenceropens with the main character, Jude Kilburn, sitting in a taxi-van as it speeds along an Albanian mountain road. I rode the very route several times, noting down visual details, and also trying to be hyper-conscious with all my senses.It’s quite draining, but the results, I hope, can be quite immersive for the reader.
‘Whitewashed, stone walls, holding back the mountain dirt behind them, streamed past stencilled with logos and sprayed with graffiti: ‘Albanian Exhausts’, ‘Geri’, ‘LSI’… Then came a café plastered with Nescafe posters, a man selling ice cream from a scratched refrigerator, and an old man bobbing side-saddle on a mule laden with white sacks, flicking its rump with a stick…’ Chapter 1 The Silencer
On the way to Athens doing research for my new novel The Migrant, I used audio notes, the video mode on a phone, a traditional journalist’s notebook, and collected seemingly inconsequential memorabilia like subway-tickets to help add those ‘apt particularities’ later that bring a place to life with authenticity.
The Migrant is about Jude Kilburn, a pastor now, who takes on the responsibility to care enough for another person in his village, a young man, Alban, that he is ready to go the extra kilometre, over 500 of them in fact, to Athens to see if he is safe.
The reader is taken on an adventure into Greece, arriving in the capital as far right political groups march through the streets and anarchists clash with riot police.
‘Jude turned back and ran. A nausea rose up from his stomach to his throat and his hands prickled with pins. He saw the amphitheatre of the Odeon of Herodes Atticus shaking below him on his left as he pounded along, and then, through the haze of smog and the water in his eyes, the vast rubble of buildings that was Athens.’ Chapter 16 The Migrant
It is a story about someone struggling with what his pastoral responsibility should be, and how far, like ‘The Good Shepherd’, he should go for that one sheep who wanders off. I have met many young men in Albania who have, in reality, made similar adventurous journeys into Greece in search of work, and returned to tell their stories of danger, of some financial success, but also of disappointment.
There is redemption in The Migrant, as that is so centrally a part of my own worldview as a follower of Jesus, and the Holy Spirit assists the characters at crucial moments. As Jude searches for Alban on the Acropolis, he remembers the words of an old Demis Roussos song: ’My friend the wind…he tells me a secret.’ The secret is that Alban is very close by on Mars Hill. But can Jude get to him in time? Well, that secret, I’m afraid, is kept hidden in the pages of the novel.
The author Paul Alkazraji in Albania. Photo by Andrew LaSavio.
Paul Alkazraji worked as a freelance journalist in the UK from the mid-nineties. His articles were published in many Christian magazines, while his travel articles were also published in The Independent. His first book, Love Changes Everything, a collection of testimonies, was published by Scripture Union in 2001. His second book, Heart of a Hooligan, was published by Highland Books in 2000. His third book, Christ and the Kalashnikov, was published by Harper Collins in 2001.
From 2004 to 2010 Paul was editor and publisher of Ujëvarë magazine in Albania. His thriller, The Silencer, was published by Highland Books in 2012. His new novel, The Migrant, was published by Instant Apostle in February 2019. You can read the first chapter for free here. Buy the full book here.
We have been looking at the fact that we do need to take responsibility for our sin and yet we are not alone in our journey of holiness. Romans 8 centres around the truth that the Holy Spirit is the one who helps us to experience our salvation and take hold of it fully. Verse 1 begins with a reminder that we are no longer condemned. This is like a breath of fresh air when we are battling habitual sins daily. We don’t need to beat ourselves up and promise God we will try harder – we need to remember that the Holy Spirit works inside us to navigate our minds and actions so that they are focused on what pleases God.
Note that Paul says, ‘if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ’ (v9). Turning this on its head, we can view it as a great promise – if we have accepted Jesus as Lord we do have His Spirit living inside us. Our tussles with sin can make us doubt that, but it is important to remind ourselves that He lives inside us and will help us to live holy lives. Interestingly, verses 12 and 13 talk about our obligation to live by the Spirit – but that it is through Him that we do this.
What comes next is such an incredible truth. We are no longer slaves to fear but have been given a Spirit of sonship/daughtership. We have been adopted and have become God’s children. We’ve already talked about how this makes us heirs with Christ – Romans 8 shows us that it is the Holy Spirit who reminds us of this fact, who testifies to our spirits that we are children of God. What an amazing gift from God!
Prayer: God, thank You that Your Holy Spirit lives inside of me, reminding me that I am Your child, and enabling me to set my mind on those things that please You. I am so grateful. Amen.
Having taken a break over the Easter school holiday, it seems quite fitting that our first weekly devotional since celebrating Jesus’ victory over sin and death on Easter Sunday is all about us stepping into the life He won for us…
Paul starts our passage with a rhetorical question (‘Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?’) – but answers it quickly with a resounding ‘no’! If we continue to sin once we accept the gospel we are belittling both the seriousness of sin and the way that God dealt with it. The language used talks of us once being slaves to sin, but now slaves to God. We can find this language difficult but Paul is using the term ‘slave’ to underline the fact that we’ve been bought at a price (see v19 for his explanation). The paradox is that becoming slaves to God is the only way to true freedom.
The problem is, we all continue to sin – why? Often we struggle with sin because we don’t fully understand what Jesus did for us. He took us from one kingdom and made us alive in His. We don’t have to be enslaved to our old sinful nature. The battle can often be in our thinking. Jesus has already killed sin, but we are told in verse 11 to ‘count yourselves dead to sin’. We need to take hold of this. Sometimes that means practically taking hold of the thoughts in our heads (see Romans 12:2) that lead to sin and replacing them with biblical truth.
Jerry Bridges, in his book The Pursuit of Holiness, explains: ‘It is our habit to live for ourselves and not for God. When we become Christians, we do not drop all this overnight. In fact, we will spend the rest of our lives putting off these habits and putting on habits of holiness’ (NavPress Publishing Group, 2003). It takes time and effort to change habits – but the key is in understanding that we are now inChrist. As Kevin de Young says, ‘The pursuit of holiness is…the fight to live out the life that has already been made alive in Christ’ (The Hole in our Holiness, Crossway, 2007).
Prayer: Lord, I can see that there is no need for me to give in to sin any longer, but that I need to cultivate habits in order to make right choices. Help me to start that today. Amen.
Those of you with children will know what it is like trying to juggle work with the kids at home. Getting that balance right of spending time meeting deadlines as well as good quality time with your family can be difficult.
That is why, when I saw that Caroline Lawrence had a book launch at the London Mithraeum I jumped at the chance to take my kids there. Caroline has been a firm favourite author in our household – my daughter has devoured her whole Roman Mysteries series. And my son met her at the Barnes Literary Festival last year.
Lounging around with Caroline!
The experience was fantastic: with timed slots we chose well – the usual ‘graveyard’ slot at mid-afternoon was less busy than others and so the kids (mine and a friend’s who came along) had the treat of one-on-one time with Caroline (you can see from the picture above, she seemed to enjoy it as much as them!).
Caroline then gave some background into the inspiration for her new book – the discovery of the Temple of Mithras, which is housed underground (we were treated to an interactive experience inside). She then read the start of The Time Travel Diaries.
Reading along with the author…
It is always such a great opportunity when readers, young and old, can meet authors and learn more about their work – the inspiration, process etc. And hearing them read their own story really helps it to come alive.
If you get the chance to go to an event being put on by an author you admire, I am sure it will be well worth going to!
This chapter really hones in on how we should live in response to the gospel. Paul starts with a ‘therefore’ and also uses the phrase ‘in view of God’s mercy’. These are the triggers — the response is down to us. While it is true, as we have seen, that we are made holy only through Jesus, and God clothes us in His righteousness, we are in the process of being sanctified. And, while that is done through the power of the Holy Spirit, we do need to make choices and take action.
So many of Paul’s instructions here are active: ‘offer’, ‘Do not conform’, ‘be transformed’, ‘Do not think of yourself’, ‘Hate what is evil, cling to what is good’ etc. James states that faith without works is dead (James 2:14–26) and I think, similarly, Paul is saying here that the process of becoming holy does include us being responsible on a daily basis for choosing to lay down our own agendas and offer ourselves up to God.
I think that often we can shy away from thinking about our own part in our path to holiness. And yet, as Kevin de Young puts it, ‘The Bible clearly teaches that holiness is possible. This is good news, not bad news … You are allowed (and expected) to be obedient. You cannot do anything to earn God’s love. But as a redeemed, regenerate child of God you don’t have to be a spiritual failure.’ (The Hole in our Holiness, Crossway, 2007)
There is also imagery in this passage about each one of us being part of a body and that we need to think of the whole and use our gifts to benefit it. As Christians, we need each other. But Paul goes further: our holiness is to impact every area of our lives, including the way we interact with people generally.
Prayer: Lord I am humbled as I ponder how the choices I make daily affect my path to holiness. Help me to choose to remember who You are today –and who you have made me to be.
Today it is my pleasure to welcome Melissa Ohden to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. She has written about her own personal story in You Carried Me; here shares how she has learned to take of her mask and be who she was created to be.
In Life, the Truth and Being Free, author Steve Maraboli states, “Live authentically. Why would you continue to compromise something that’s beautiful to create something that is fake?” I would add to this that scripture is clear about authenticity. For example, take Ephesians 4:22-24, in which believers are called, “to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.”
Being authentic means more than just taking up a cause, “being you” or moral relativism and the like. It’s about being honest with the world about who God made you to be, what He’s done in your life, and what He’s called you to share and do. Being authentic is beautiful, because it’s how God calls us to live. Why would we project something else to the world that’s fake, when what He makes is beautiful?
I am an abortion survivor and, although I don’t believe God originally wrote this storyline in my life, because He’s the author and creator of life, I am so thankful that this is the story He’s written in my life. This is who God made me to be! Although I’m so much more than just a survivor of a failed saline infusion abortion, the reality is that this is how I was born into this world, and this very experience has shaped who I am, my career path, my mental, emotional and physical health, my relationships with others, my relationship with God and, although it happened 41 years ago, it still continues to affect my life today.
Although most people won’t ever know what it’s like to be an abortion survivor, we all know what it’s like to have a secret, to have an experience or life story that we feel ashamed or embarrassed about, maybe even fearful of others knowing.
That’s how a mask first gets placed on, in which you cover your authentic self, your true identity, your experiences and stories that make you uniquely you, and reflect someone else to the world.
Maybe it’s sin you’re masking, maybe it’s a painful experience you’ve had that’s deeply shaped your life, maybe it’s your belief in God and who He made you to be that you’re trying to keep under cover.
Our world certainly reinforces this, especially when it comes to being affected by abortion in a negative way and even when it comes to being a believer and follower of Christ. Our culture communicates that we should wear a mask to cover our authentic self that may challenge it, that may make others uncomfortable. My very existence makes people uncomfortable! And it made me uncomfortable to know that years ago. Our individual stories may look different underneath, but our masks often look surprisingly similar:
The woman who has it all together. Perfectly made up. Slaying it at work. Instagram-perfect home, marriage or dating relationship, and children. That’s a common mask.
Maybe you’re the one whose mask communicates that you don’t need anyone, you don’t care about anything. You’re aloof and could care less about the world. You don’t need anyone or anything. You’re a woman who stands alone. You don’t need God.
Or maybe you’re the woman who’s always happy. Sad, anxious, depressed? Considered ending your life because you don’t see any meaning or purpose in it? No, never you! You’re okay. You’re more than okay! You’re always happy!
There are so many different masks that we wear,and even though those around us may not realise it, I think deep down, each of us know when we’re wearing them, when we’re covering up our authenticity. I think that as women, we can also innately sense when someone else is wearing a mask, too.
What was my mask, you may be wondering? Mine was the picture of perfection: “high achieving, people pleasing, must earn people’s love and respect and never show people my hurt”. My mask was beautiful, and firmly covered the truth about who I was.
At the heart of the matter, I was afraid of who I was, of how people would react to my story or treat me when they learned of it. The few times that I had told people my story privately after I found out about it at the age of 14 hadn’t gone well. Although close friends and classmates were supportive, others expressed their pity for me, coupled in tandem with their disdain for my personal beliefs about abortion, and even their questions about the credibility of my life story.
The more I shared my story and people responded in that manner, the more my mask glued itself on. Maybe you can relate to that. Our masks may first be placed accidentally, but over time, they become purposely placed. We feel like we need to wear them, we must wear them, in order to survive.
I knew God alone spared my life from abortion and I was so deeply grateful for all He’s done in my life, but I was so affected by our greater culture’s perception of me, so overcome with fear and shame, that by wearing that mask, I was holding back not only the truth about myself, but the truth about God.
Let’s think for a minute about what makes God who He is. He’s the most authentic example for us to follow. He’s merciful, His love is unfailing, He never changes. As God spoke to Moses, He is “I am”. We never have to question who He is, because we know. He never changes. God’s authenticity then bears fruit in us. Through His authenticity, we trust in Him, we love Him, we praise Him, we are confident in Him and His plans for us. Just as His authenticity bears those fruits, we reciprocate likewise in this world when we’re being our authentic selves.
Research literature tells us that living authentically, unmasked, is the key to wellbeing, purpose and even peace. Or, as scripture says, being honest about who God made us to be and what He’s done in our lives bears these fruits. While there may be some twists and turns along the way, when you live as who you really are, you find not only freedom and strength, but also the joy of giving your true talents to the world.
But how do you even do this? Where do you start, when you’ve worn the mask that hides your genuine self for years or even decades – when fear is holding you back from sharing your most authentic, but likely most complicated or painful pieces of your life? How do you share your faith with the world? How do you begin to pry that mask off?
Personally, it started by looking, honestly, at a couple of statements and their impact on me:
If you reallyknew me, you’d know this: ______. What is that one thing that most people don’t know about you that you’ve kept hidden? What is it that you’ve experienced that makes you, “you?”
If you really knew me, I think you would ____ me because of this. (Love me, hate me, judge me, not respect me as much, you wouldn’t want to be my friend, you’d feel sorry for me, etc).
Melissa’s book is available now, and is published by Lion Hudson.
Although I live an authentic life now, which enables me to be open and honest about who I am, and which has given me great strength, there was a time in my life when I was afraid to share this with anyone. I was afraid to live my life and be me.
Years ago, I answered that second statement with the following: “If you really knew me, I think you wouldn’t accept me for who I am.” I was deeply afraid that if I was honest with the world about who I am, they wouldn’t accept me. This is a common human experience. We want to be accepted, to be loved, to be understood, to be respected. The root of this is the desire to be loved and accepted unconditionally. Can I remind you that God loves you unconditionally, and that your authentic self, your identity, comes from and is rooted in Him. This is the biggest step, I think, in living life unmasked – recognising your identity and strength truly come from God.
The more I’m honest with the world about who I am, the stronger I become. No matter what it is that you’ve experienced, no matter how scared you are of your story, or of sharing your faith, I hope that you can experience that same strength and inner peace that comes from taking off your mask and being authentically you. Be who God created you to be, and you will experience life in the most profound and beautiful way!
This passage provides us with a wonderful picture of how God stepped down and, through His grace, picked us up. The keys to understanding our salvation and new standing before God are His grace and our faith. Verse 8 reminds us of this, that we have been saved because of Him but we had to exercise our faith – and still do. We haven’t done anything to deserve it and yet He has created us to do good works. Isn’t it incredible to think about how verse 6 tells us we have been seated in heavenly places with Christ? This means we now share in His inheritance, as daughters and sons of God. I heard a speaker say that he pictures being seated next to God: ‘having his ear like a child does their parents’ ears’. I love that. It reassures us that our prayers are being heard.
The second half of today’s reading widens out to show how God reconciles both Jew and Gentile in His one family and that those of us who believe are now being built together into a holy temple – isn’t that amazing! God’s presence is no longer confined to a physical temple but dwells in us. This is also a good reminder that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves.
Optional further reading: Ephesians 1:3–14; Galatians 4:1–7. Prayer: Thank You Lord that, in You, we are made alive – and are also grafted into Your one, united, family. Amen.
The first part of this passage reveals how Paul prayed for the Christians in Colossae. It was with an attitude of thankfulness that he prayed. He reminds them of what they have in Jesus – the faith and love that the gospel affords them.
It is interesting to look at what Paul prays in verses 9 and 10: that they may have a greater understanding and wisdom through the Holy Spirit. This is the continuing work of sanctification that God does in our lives. Yes we are reconciled to God through Jesus’ death, but we must ‘continue in our faith’ (as v23 says) in order to live a life worthy of God. That may seem a little like we are being told we need to ‘do’ in order to please, but the word Paul uses here is axios, which means ‘in a manner that is worthy’, or ‘in a way that is fitting’.
This is talking about us living in a way that befits our new identity: holy children of God. How we do this is not through our own efforts but through the Holy Spirit’s enabling. It is through His power that we are able to endure, and Paul reminds us that we lay hold of this through an attitude of thanksgiving for we are now qualified to partake of the inheritance God has called ‘his holy people’ (v12) to.
Paul goes on to focus on the absolute supremacy of Jesus: that He is the firstborn who holds everything together.
It is only through Jesus that we can be blemish and accusation free — but we need to choose to keep hold of our faith in Him. It is when we recognise that our confidence about our holiness before God can only be found in Jesus that we truly grasp the amazing nature of our salvation.
Prayer: God it is incredible that You view me as without blemish or accusation. By Your Spirit please continue to reveal the fullness of the knowledge of what that means to me. Amen.
I am delighted to welcome Rachel Jones to my blog – her piece fits well within the Unmasked: stories of authenticity series, but she also provides us with an insight into how she went about researching her new book.
When I finished writing Is This It?,I felt a little bit sad. I felt a whole load of positive things too – grateful, relieved, satisfied. But also sad.
Why? Because I’d miss the conversations.
Is This It?explores twelve different emotions that are common in our 20s (and beyond) – from self-doubt to dissatisfaction and decision paralysis. The book grew out of my own experience of what some people would call a ‘Quarter-life Crisis’: a period of anxiety and uncertainty over where your life is at and where it’s going. (A bit like a mid-life crisis, but when you’re younger and therefore can’t afford to compensate with a sports car!)
During the research and writing process I was on a year-long scavenger huntfor ideas, experiences and anecdotes from anyone who was in their 20s, or who had been once. I was a woman obsessed. Nobody was off-limits – old friends, church acquaintances and anyone unfortunate enough to sit next to me at a wedding. No topic was off limits either. Rather than enquiring about work and weekend plans in that period of post-church chit-chat, I started asking questions like: ‘I’m writing a chapter on loneliness this week. Do you ever feel lonely?’
Or, ‘I’m asking everyone about this at the moment, but have you ever struggled with doubt?’
Or, ‘Tell me about your experience of dating your husband. When did you know he was the one?’
Or, ‘What are you feeling discontent about at the moment?’
I’ll admit I was, at times, a little toointense. Those who saw a lot of me began to roll their eyes or raise an eyebrow whenever ‘the book’ came up. They knew what was coming.
But here’s the thing: people were wonderfully honest with me. As part of the book project I had meaningful connections and real conversations with a whole range of people I wouldn’t have otherwise. It was fascinating. And I’m so grateful for it – first, because I trust that diversity of experiences made the book a whole lot better. And second, because I reaped the benefits of better, richer, deeper friendships as a result.
It’s ironic, because during my own ‘Quarter-life Crisis’ I don’t think I spoke to many people about it. For months I felt a vague yet persistent sense of unhappiness. I was bored of life. I didn’t especially like where I was working, and I especially didn’t like where I was living. I felt a little bit lost, a little bit lonely, a little bit like I was looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. But I didn’t really talk to anyone about it.Maybe they weren’t asking the right questions. Maybe I wasn’t giving the right answers. Maybe I didn’t have the guts, or the vocabulary, to be authentic.
So writing and talking about my experience had been wonderfully freeing. That’s why I was so sad when the book project was over.
But here’s the thing: we don’t need to be writing a book to have these kinds of conversations. We don’t need an ‘excuse’ to be vulnerable, or invite others to be vulnerable with us. We don’t have to have a special reason to be authentic with others. The Bible gives us reason enough: ‘Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice’ (Proverbs 27:9).
So here’s what I’m increasingly seeking to do, and what you could seek to do too:
Ask the right questions. Sometimes we need to be more intentional, and a bit braver, with the kind of questions we ask one another. Of course, this will depend on the kind of relationship we have with someone, and we need to be sensitive to their individual needs and personalities. Sometimes, though, it’s good to bite the bullet with real, direct questions. Other times, it’s interesting open questions that are more effective. (‘What are you thinking about right now?’ can result in interesting answers…)
Give authentic answers. This is way harder than asking the questions! So much within me wants to give the impression that everything’s fine and I’m quite a nice person really than be honest. Authenticity will only happen if we’re confident of who we are in Christ – if it’s his approval we rejoice in the most. And it helps me, too, to remember the benefits I’ve reaped from being honest in relationships in the past. So all I need to do is take a deep breath…and say something truthful about myself.
Rachel Jones is the author of Is This It? and the award-winning Five Things to Pray series, and an editor at The Good Book Company. She’s a member of Chessington Evangelical Church, where she’s involved in children’s work and leading Bible studies for young adults.
